


Joined in the Flesh

by CeruleanChillin



Category: Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Mild Sexual Content, Pregnancy, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeruleanChillin/pseuds/CeruleanChillin
Summary: Moments in the Reader and Lincoln's relationship. Tears, laughter, and all the bullshit in between.Reader x Modern Lincoln Clay.





	1. Meeting Him

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still playing the game so I'm still learning his character. I'm really terrified I'm not capturing him ugh. I just know I got the urge to write for him as soon as I started playing. I want to write in the time period the game takes place in, but I think I need to finish it first. I'm just so happy Mafia is finally gaining a fandom.

Planez – Jeremih and J. Cole  
This was inspired Cole’s verse

-*-  
“I’m telling you, there are some fine guys out here. Let me throw you a newcomer party or some shit. You’d get snatched up so fast!” Keesha plopped down on your porch steps with the dramatic flair you’d come to expect from her.

You’d moved to New Bordeaux two weeks prior, and Keesha had been the first person to talk to you at school. She’d instantly taken a shine to you, and even though your friendship was new, you couldn’t say you didn’t like her. It was definitely nice to have someone to get out of the house with. You didn’t like to spend too much time at home if it could be helped.

“I’m still getting lost on my way back from places, I’ve got to find a job to get my dad and my step-mom off my back, and I have to get my senior year back on track to be favorable for college. Really don’t have time for a man right now Keesh.” You swayed gently on the porch swing, grateful for the slight breeze that passed through.

“You’re an eighteen-year-old who’s wasting her great looks and bomb personality on nothing!” she threw her hands up, appearing genuinely frustrated.

You laughed loudly at this, the swing swaying a little harder with your jerky movements. “You’re the biggest drama queen I’ve ever fucking known, and I’m from Atlanta.”

“I’m trying to help your doofy ass.” She grumbled, turning to extend her whole body on one step, and relax her back against the railing.

You flicked an ice cube, from the glass of iced tea on the table beside you, at her. She yelped as it slid down the back of her shirt, and you were sent into another fit of laughter.

“Oh I’ve got to get something from a friend, do you mind if they come here?” she turned to you, her thumbs paused over her phone, most likely waiting to reply.

“That’s cool.” You nodded.

Keesha sent her reply, and then roped you into one of her wild stories. You were always amazed at how much she’d gotten into by the age of eighteen. You supposed you shouldn’t, given how wild the city around you had presented itself to be, but you still were. Dull was never something one could call her. She was absolutely convinced you were destined to be her partner in crime too. You’d be lying if you said her stories didn’t make you want to join in. 

Just as she was finishing her tale, a classic black muscle car pulled into your driveway. You noticed two males in the front and sat upright. You had met a couple of Keesha’s friends, but definitely not them. At the very least, you would’ve remembered the good-looking guy who got out of the driver’s seat.

You instantly looked down, eyes scanning over what you were wearing. A graphic crop top, and red jean shorts. It wasn’t the worst you could’ve looked, but you had to admit (even though you hated to) that you wished you would’ve known he would’ve been coming. You would’ve just so happened to be wearing something a little smoother. You casually pushed your curls into a messy bun, as they headed for the porch, and caught Keesha’s knowing smile. She never missed anything.

The one you couldn’t keep your eyes off of was built in the most amazing way. He had medium brown skin, and the biggest brown eyes you had ever seen. You looked away shyly when his eyes met yours. Your cheeks were set ablaze when you caught him smirking out of the corner of your eye. Jackass.

“My favorite customer.” The man who’d been in the passenger’s seat grinned, approaching Keesha.

“Potentially your soon-to-be only customer the way I hear it. You’ve got some competition coming up across town.” Keesha slipped her wallet out of the bag she’d tossed by the bottom of the steps.

The man scoffed. “A little competition never hurt nobody!” he turned to the driver. “Shit, me and Lincoln here could take this whole town now if we wanted. Let em’ become a problem, we’ll handle it.”

Keesha laughed. “By that you mean you’ll send Lincoln in to handle it by himself.”

“That’s exactly what the fuck he means.” Lincoln spoke for the first time, and his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help but laugh at that, and that drew his attention to you once again.

Where had the city hidden him this whole time? He was gorgeous.

Ellis glared between the two of them and mumbled how that was bullshit. 

“This is my friend, (Y/N) (L/N). She goes to school with me.” Keeshed casually introduced you to the two, and you gave a shy ‘hi’ from behind her.

“You toddlers are so cute buyin’ you’re weed from the best.”

“You only graduated last year. If we’re toddlers what are you?” Keesha replied.

Weed? You’d wondered what it was she was buying for him, and you’d had a sneaky suspicion. You nervously glanced back at your house. All you needed was for your step-mom to have one more thing to complain to your dad about. She’d already made it abundantly clear she didn’t want you around. In her eyes, you were your dad’s problem. Why should you have to be hers too? 

“When you said you had to get something from a friend, I was thinking more like a jacket or a phone charger.” You rose from the swing, and stood at the top of the stairs.

“This is ok, right? It’s just weed girl, don’t be lame.” Keesha shot her eyes towards Lincoln to indicate to you he was still there. “Everybody likes weed.” 

“I wouldn’t know.” You replied honestly.

All three of them looked at you like you like a head had burst forth from your stomach.

Ellis chuckled. “You hangin’ out with choir girls now Keesh? New year, new you?”

“The polite thing to do, dumbass, would be to invite us somewhere to light up. Open your tiflin’ mouth and try again.” Keesha crossed her arms and glared at him.

“How do you know I don’t have anything better to do than take care of two high school babies? You show her how to smoke.”

“Ya’ll talkin’ bout the girl like she ain’t standin’ here.” Lincoln looked to you. “What do you say? You wanna get out of here for a little while? We’ll take good care of you, country boy’s promise.”

When he smiled at you, you swore your soul left your body. Your mind started screaming yes at you, before you’d even thought on what he said.

‘Seriously?!’ you thought. ‘You’re good to go with a complete stranger because he’s good-looking?’ 

He raised an eyebrow

“Yeah…ok.” You ignored the rational thought, in favor of what you really wanted. 

-  
“Are they always like this?” you glanced back through the back window of Lincoln’s car to where Keesha and Ellis were arguing 

It had been 15 minutes into your smoke session when Keesha announced she was hungry, and you had to admit you were too. Ellis how announced he knew the best burger spot in New Bordeaux, and then you were off.

You weren’t sure if it was the weed, or if they were just good company, but conversation had come a lot easier than you would’ve thought. They mostly questioned you, and about how you’d been led to the city. You lightly danced around your backstory, but you wanted to know the reason behind the dangerous aura you were picking up from them. More specifically, Lincoln. You’d been given a dance around in return, you didn’t mind you’d just grill Keesha later.

“Enough to blow your high ain’t it?” Lincoln chuckled as glanced back to where your attention had gone.

“I hope not, it’s nice.” You reclined your head, allowing yourself to fall back into that tolerable weightless feeling.

“Keesha tried to hook you up with anybody yet?”

You slowly opened your eyes, and sat up. “We literally had that conversation just before I met you.”

He laughed at that with a knowing shake of his head. “Word of advice, don’t go for whoever she brings you.”

“Why not?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Keesha only knows little boys, you don’t need that.” He shrugged matter-of-factly.

You took a moment to see if you’d heard what you thought you heard, and then you laughed. “You met me not even an hour ago. How do you know what I need?”

“Just do.” He shrugged again. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You couldn’t. He was right, what woman did want to chase behind a small-minded boy? Not you, and certainly not at that time. Where did he get off being so cocky though? All smirks with his broad shoulders held high.

“That’s just common sense.” You scoffed, refusing to feed his ego.

He chuckled, hip to what you were doing. “Fair enough.”

“If you know so much, tell me what you think I need then.” You looked to him expectantly.

“A grown man. One who’s not goin’ to waste your time. One who’s never goin’ to make you question why you’re with him.”

You snorted. “And where exactly do I find him?”

“Stick around here long enough, and he might show up.” Lincoln shrugged casually, and gave you another one of his beautiful smiles.

You smiled too, quickly looking away from him, hoping he didn’t see it. Hoping he didn’t know you hoped it was him.


	2. You Have His Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Lost - Chance the Rapper, Noname Gypsy
> 
> I swear I thought of this song when I imagined Lincoln, and whatever girl he’d end up with. The life he lives, I imagine he’d a need a girl who could patch him up, give him that good, get his head right, and then send him back out to do his thing.
> 
> I'm off to play the game and get more character inspo for the next chapter (which I almost have done).

You hadn’t gone to medical school, not even close. That didn’t stop you from seeing your fair share of bullet wounds, staving off infections, and closing wounds with jagged stiches. You’d learned along the way because it’d come with the territory. There wasn’t always a need to rouse a street doctor, or take the extremely rare trip to the hospital. If that was the case, you stepped in.

Tonight was no different when Lincoln had showed up at your door, formerly white t-shirt stained with blood and grime. You were quite calm for being his woman, and seeing your man in that state. The familiar routine kicked in, and you led him into your bathroom. He sat on the edge of the tub, and you sat on the closed lid of your toilet. Your hands explored his broad chest in one of two manners you normally did.

He hadn’t quite switched out of soldier mode, and was gritting his teeth through any pain or discomfort he felt. Rarely did a sound slip past his lips, but you still listened for any nonetheless. You wanted to make it as easy on him as you could.

Cuts that were deep enough to run his chest red, but not enough to require stiches, were attended to gently by your fingers. Each bandage received a kiss after being placed, a silent and odd sort of thank you for not being worse.

Lincoln’s eyes watched you do the familiar job with nothing short of admiration and love. He’d never been turned away from your doorstep, never been made to feel unwanted. No matter how much danger and baggage he brought with him, you were there. There ready to receive him in any way necessary.

When you felt you looked him over thoroughly, your attention went directly to him. You cupped his face in your hands, and gave him a silent look of worry.

“I’m fine.” He touched his forehead to yours, and pressed his lips against your own.

You were dying for him to do that, but his injuries had to come first. Your arms slipped around his neck, and you fell into a deeper kiss with ease. He rose and pulled you up into his arms, all without breaking the kiss.

You shook your head and pulled away. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Is than an order?” he teased, nipping at the underside of your jaw.

“Ye- ah, yes.” You attempted to push him away, only for him to playfully nip at your fingers instead.

“I have plans that are gonna clash with that.”

You shivered at that implication and the bass in his voice. He dragged your legs up to his hips, grasping your thighs to keep him in place. You couldn’t remember a time where you didn’t desire him, and now was no different.

He carried you to your bedroom, taking advantage of your pliancy the whole time. Your whole body was awake by the time your back hit the mattress.

“Promise me something.” You managed to get out between his dominating kisses.

“Anything baby.” His hands made quick work of the oversized shirt you wore, probably his, and then his heated hands were on your skin.

You drew closer, body leading you into him without question. It needed him, you needed him, you weren’t going to deny yourself that. You had to hear it though.

“No, swear it.”

He cradled your cheek gently, and pressed lingering kisses to your throat. “Ok, I will. Tell me what it is.”

“Swear you’ll always come back to me.” You were looking at him with the most serious expression he’d likely ever seen for you.  
You were well aware it wasn’t a fair or realistic request, in fact he’d probably tell you so. You didn’t care though. You’d become addicted to him, and that was his fault. He loved you so hard and so openly, that no other man would ever be able to replace him. You’d never be able to be all-consumed by love again, and that was on him. He owed you that swear for that.

As if sensing what you needed, and that it was not a lecture on whether that was something he could do or not, he pulled back to look you in your eye.

“I swear it (Y/N).” his thumb gently swiped across your cheek and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes and savored his words a moment, before initiating another kiss. You’d take it and you’d hold on to it, and pray it was never revealed to be a lie.


	3. Shit Tends To Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was good practice for me in writing the other characters. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to do a first chapter with each of them, so I did one with most of them. It also let me explore something I was wondering about in regards to how Lincoln changed and these short stories. If he had this woman he loved before that, would he want her to see that change and risk losing her? This thought was inspired by those conversations he has with Father James.  
> This takes place sometime after the betrayal/family killing. That still happens in this modern verse.

It seemed wild to you that one device could bring a person to their knees. Praying, crying, willing to make a deal with anyone who would listen. It could have your stomach eating itself with nervousness no matter what result you wanted. 

You’ve had to take the wheel of a stolen vehicle, while Lincoln fired shots at angry pursuers. You’ve been on deals gone wrong with Emmanuel, and had to fight your way out. You’ve had people, who wanted to take up their issues with Lincoln or his associates, with you and you’d held your own. All of that, and a pregnancy test was the thing that made your knees knock.

You stared at the box. You hadn’t even gotten the damn thing out, let alone actually taken it, and you were stressed out. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have a baby with Lincoln, just at a much later point. Not many days went by where you weren’t either told, or shown for yourself how dangerous your lives were. What would you look like ducking bullets with a beach ball for a stomach? The thought made you laugh despite your nerves.

You sighed and got up from the edge of the bathtub. The test would be there, and eventually you’d take it, but you needed to talk to someone. Anyone at this point, you wanted to hear somebody else’s what ifs besides your own. Logically it should be Lincoln you talked to at this point, but your mind and body weren’t backing that idea at the moment.

Vito:

Why you’d gotten the urge to speak to Vito first you had no idea. The man wasn’t exactly a wealth of knowledge in what you were dealing with. Then again, from the stories you’d heard from, and about him, he was a master of slipping of out tight situations. He also was brutally honest in most situations, and you wanted that.

“To be honest, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Kid’s always coming around with hickies on his neck, you’re worse than fuckin’ rabbits.” Vito was scanning over a menu for the re-opening of his dockside restaurant. “Hey! Does this look like the font we agreed on? Can you read this? Would you be enticed to order anything off of this?” He tossed the stack of menus in the face of a waiter who’d waiting off to the side.

The older male was up to his neck in work to be done before the restaurant opened the following Monday. You couldn’t tell if his snappy remarks to his workers were the norm, or increased because of the stress. 

“We don’t know if it did happen. It’s a maybe.” You emphasized.

Vito looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Sure kid. So, does my deal with Lincoln include giving advice to girls he knocks up? He didn’t mention that in his pitch.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “I was told his pitch included rescuing your ass out of a freezer. Is this really so beneath you?”

“Oh yeah,” Vito shook his head, studying a stack of documents in front of him. “You’re Lincoln’s girl alright.”

“Can you get to the advice-giving part?” you kicked your legs nervously in a back and forth motion away from the barstool base.

“Tell him. We don’t like to be lied to. Just be straight forward.”

That was reasonable. Maybe you’d doubted Vito’s expertise. “I mean I get it, and I will, but how do you think he will react? How much is it going to change things?”

“How will he react?” Vito motioned for you to follow him into the kitchen. “He’s a responsible guy, he won’t bail if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Nor really…but it’s nice to hea-“

“How will it change things?” Vito adjusted the temperature on a good-smelling sauce on the stove. “A lot. It will change everything. That tight little body? Bye. That boomin’ sex life that got you here? Bye. Taste this.”

You accepted the spoon he held out. 

“It’s good.” You murmured, and it was. Your mind wasn’t on whatever he was perfecting for his menu though. His words were taking up residence in your mind as you replayed them.

“Just good?” He looked at you, and then shook his head and started gathering spices from around him. “You two ain’t even married, so you don’t have to be worried about it ruinin’ the marriage.”

“Well that’s good to know.” You nodded sarcastically, mentally reneging on your earlier change of heart about his “advice”.

“But,” he started, attention still mostly trained on the pot. “Like I said, he’s responsible. He’ll marry you, so there’s plenty of time for an unplanned brat to work its magic on the union.”

“Fuck. Seriously Vito? You’re so positive.” you frowned from your position against the counter. What part of advice had spelled out to him that you wanted his bitter imaginings?

“Boss, the bathroom sink went from a leak to a waterfall.” A nervous looking waitress popped into the kitchen, her waist apron and shirt drenched.

“Fuck me under the earth.” Vito slipped off his own apron, and tossed it onto the counter. “Are we good here?” he gestured between the two of you.

“Yeah, you’ve been a gold mine.” You pushed away from the counter. “You know you don’t tell him anything, right?”

“Well shit, it was it the top of my to do list. There go my evening plans.”

Cassandra:

Cassandra seemed to find your situation very funny. Hilarious even. You didn’t think you’d ever seen her laugh that hard. Even in more relaxed social situations, she still had an air of authority. It that moment it had been almost hard to see her as the boss of a very dangerous mob. Almost. You were no idiot. If the next second had called or it, she would’ve been that mob boss in an instant.

“Could be much worse.” She finally said, getting up to walk over to her mini-bar. Bourbon for her, ginger ale for you.

“How so?” you tucked your legs underneath you on her couch, and accepted the drink from her.

“Could be Donovan’s.”

You snorted and put down your drink to avoid choking. “I’m not gonna entertain that.”

“So what’s the problem chéri?” she sat down across from you, flowy maxi skirt settling around her.

If you had to talk to anyone outside of Lincoln, it should’ve been Cassandra. She was the one, besides him, to impart the most street knowledge to you. Simple hangouts, you hadn’t thought anything more than casual, wound up leaving you with profound lessons for you to hold on to you. She seemed to have levels of knowledge in everything, and she had a way of making herself easy to talk to.

“It’s not that I think he’d leave, or even that he’d be mad.” You sighed, trying to vocalize one of the coherent thoughts at the forefront of your mind. “I’m going to sound really selfish, but it’s always just been us. Like…what if what we have works because it’s just us?”

Cassandra sipped her drink, and nodded. “Like a third party could kill the dynamic?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Yes, exactly. I mean…I guess any and all thoughts of us having that type of life went away somewhere after what happened at Sammy’s. We sometimes talked about it when he was overseas, but he hasn’t brought that up in a long time. I’ve just been focused on helping him, and trying to find my place in this I guess.”

“Listen (Y/N),” she set her glass besides some documents on the coffee table, and returned her attention to you. “You two are the literal Bonnie and Clyde, only better cuz’ you’re still breathin’. Lincoln would kill, and has killed for you. Why would you think a baby would destroy what you have?”

You shrugged, feeling somewhat silly after her words. Could a devoted link like the one you two shared really be killed by this? Her words were encouraging you to think not. Maybe it was one of those things you knew, but someone else verbalizing was what made it real to you. But then why did you still feel like it was something else?

“If anything, you should worry about him likin’ it too much, and trying for it as many times as he can.” She laughed, reclining in her chair.

“Oh god,” you laughed, shaking your head and getting up from the couch. “I have to go.”

Suddenly her laughter stopped, and she stood up and approached you. “I will say though (Y/N), the brother is in a dark space right now.”

You swallowed hard, Cassandra was touching on something you’d been confused about since Lincoln’s recovery. How was he processing things? Was he letting you all the way in? Lincoln had been no saint when you first started dating, but was he heading down a road he couldn’t come back from? You supported him, you didn’t want to stand against what he felt was best. You just didn’t want to lose him to it. Especially not now if there with a potential child in the picture.

“What do you mean?” you finally replied, not sure if you wanted a response or not.

“I mean, his mind is wired heavily in one direction right now. Maybe not the direction that’s goin’ to give you the response you want.”

“Soooo…what should I do? As far as I know he’s managing.”

“I know.” Cassandra gave you a sad smile. “Talk to him.”

Donovan:

“So let me get this straight, you’re doing all of this running around for a maybe baby?” Donovan chuckled, which turned into full-blown laughter

“It’s a really weird situation to be in!” you exclaimed, picking through the mess of papers on the couch to find a place to sit.

“Careful, those are under my personal organization method.”

“The needle in a haystack method?” you pushed them all to one side, and sat down.

“Oh hah hah. How great is an unplanned pregnancy for the organized soul?”  
“Possible unplanned pregnancy, and touché.”

“I’m honestly hurt I’m last on the list. I’m Lincoln’s closest friend out of everyone you talked to.” Donovan flipped open the laptop on the desk in front of him.

“Well you weren’t even on the list if that makes you feel better? I went to text Lincoln, got nervous, and texted you instead.”

“That makes me feel great!” Donovan laughed, spinning once in his desk chair. “This is your laptop I’m saving by the way. Just a reminder.”

“No! I’m sorry.” You laughed waving your hands, and shaking your head. “Carry on wise master of technology.”

“Title could use some work, but it’s a start. Anyways, I’m not getting the problem here. I mean I am, but this sounds like-“

“Do you think Lincoln’s in a dark space?” you blurted, finally asking what you’d wanted to.

Besides you, Donovan was Lincoln’s closest confidant. If there was anything he wasn’t telling you, he could’ve told Donovan. Donovan most likely wouldn’t tell you, but he might tell you something that gave you some insight into it.

“Um,” Donovan scratched his head, and reclined in his seat. “Where did that come from?”

“Just…I mean….” You sighed and looked up at the motel’s ceiling. You narrowed your eyes until the water stain started to actually look like something.

“Is it the maybe baby or something else? Your focus on the art formed by poor property upkeep tells me it’s else.”

“I don’t think he’d get upset about it, or try to bail on responsibility. Do you think he’s emotionally stable enough for this…if this turns out to be a thing? Do you think he’s in a headspace where the timing for this couldn’t be worse?”

“Look, I’m not Oprah, so don’t expect some next level shrink shit that’s going to wave your worries away,” Donovan pulled a cigarette out of the case on his desk, and cupped his hands as he lit it. “The moment Lincoln recovered from being shot, things were different. I only know glimpses of the plans you guys had, but they’re as good as over. From now, to when he’s king of this shit hole, there’s going to be problems.”

You swallowed hard, the truth of his words settling in around you. Why hadn’t Donovan been the first one you’d come to see?

“There’s never going to be a good time, and Lincoln’s head space…….” he took a drag and exhaled. Suddenly he frowned, and gestured to the cigarette. “Is this ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” You nodded, eager for him to finish his statement.

“Talk to him. That’s all I can say, but be realistic about what’s happened to him, what he’s had to see, and how that can change a person.”

“But I’m not sure how it changed him…I mean..sometimes I see things, and then..I don’t know.” You sighed, draping yourself over the edge of the couch.

“You two will figure it out. You can run a city, but a rug rat is too hard? Come on.” He exhaled, and returned his attention to repairing your laptop. “By the way if this checks out, I want to be uncle. I don’t change diapers, I’m not giving up a kidney, and if I’m babysitting, but meet a girl the kid’s out on their ass.”

“What an amazing pitch, who could compete?” You snort and roll your eyes.

“Uncle John Donovan is a title I deserve nonetheless dammit.”

You laughed “I don’t kn-“

“Who’s the bastard unlucky enough to be gettin’ you for an uncle?” Lincoln walked into the room, shaking off his jacket onto the dresser.

You and Donovan exchanged a look, before you looked down at the faded fabric of the sofa.

“What?” Lincoln looked between the two of you.

\--

“So let me get this straight. You felt the need to tell my associates, all of which I don’t fully trust by the way, somethin’ that should’ve stayed between us?”

You cringed, suddenly finding the scenery outside the window far more interesting. You could still feel his gaze burning into your profile. 

You’d attempted to skirt the conversation, but Donovan had made that impossible. He’d excused himself, mumbling about needing to eat, and blurted out your secret just before the door closed behind him.  
Your mouth had turned into floodgate before you knew it. You were weaving in and out of the details of the day, with many unnecessary add-ons to pad it. The entire time Lincoln just stared at you, expression blank. He’d walked out of the door, and you’d panicked running after him. He’d told you to wait in the room, and that’s what you’d done. Wondering where he’d run off to, and if he’d left because he was upset. He’d returned fifteen minutes later with three home tests saying he didn’t want to talk about it until you’d taken them.

“You been hangin’ around Keesha too long. This sounds like some convoluted bullshit she’d tell you to do.” He scoffed and shook his head.

“I didn’t even tell her anything, stop assuming.” You huffed.

“Well why not? You told everybody else, may as tell her. Guaranteed service in havin’ your business spread through Louisiana, 23 years in business and countin’.”

“Stop it.” You snapped, somewhat annoyed. You figured he wouldn’t be happy, but you also figured he’d focus on the bigger picture.

“You don’t get to be mad. If anyone gets to be mad it’s me.” He narrowed his eyes in your direction, but you didn’t look away.

“Are you?” you asked softly.

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No.” he sighed, and dragged his hands down his face. “No. Confused, but not mad.”

“Confused about what?” you knit your brows.

“I thought we always came to each other first about important things. What made you go to them first?”

He sounded disappointed in you, and you couldn’t remember when he ever had. You got up and sat next to him on the other bed. 

“I don’t know.” You replied, but did you really not know? 

Perhaps you valued his associates input because they were seeing something you didn’t think you were. They saw that part of Lincoln that you suspected he was trying to keep hidden from you. The part that’d manifested when his family died, and it felt like he started sectioning himself off. Certain parts of him were open for you to take from as you please, and then there was the Lincoln that came to life in the field. He was more willing to share that side with his associates, but for some reason not you. Even when you were around him for things pertaining to his current goals, he came across very controlled. You weren’t sure how to put that into words, or even if you should at that moment.

“You don’t know?” he looked at you, and you shrugged under his focused gaze.

“No, I was going to take the test and then I couldn’t. Then I was going to tell you and..it doesn’t matter because they were negative so let’s just move on.” You waved your hand as if that would make it go away.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to know why.”

Cassandra’s words replayed in your head, and that led into what Donovan told you. You were just figuring it out for yourself, slowly. What you had originally thought to be the life changer wound up paling in comparison to the revelation you’d received.

You took in Lincoln’s tired expression, and felt over protectiveness surge in your stomach. Why did it matter if Lincoln had changed, something you weren’t entirely convinced of? It’d been proven to you, that you would follow this man to hell for the simple fact that he’d do the same for you. You’d done so much in the time since the massacre at Sammy’s. You’d had to step up to support Lincoln in his most trying time. You had changed, so what difference did it make if he had?

You sighed, your revelation lifting that heavy weird feeling that had taken up residence in your gut. You stood from the bed opposite of the one he was sitting on, and sat next to him.

“I’m sorry. I guess that was me panicking? I don’t know it was scary.” Maybe it wasn’t right not to be honest, but you didn’t think he needed to hear any of that right now.

“That’s when we’re supposed to turn to each other.” He cupped your cheek. “There’s potential for all types of shit to go south in the future, I need to know we can come to each other if it does.”

“Absolutely,” You nodded, leaning further into him. “I promise.”

“So how are you feeling about all this? I’ve had a lot of crazy shit told to me in these rooms, but this takes the fucking cake.” He brushed a hand over his hair and chuckled.

“Relieved, but also maybe a little disappointed. That’s crazy I know because now isn’t even close to a good time, but still.” You shrugged, and that was the truth.

He wrapped his arms around you, and laid back on the back. You buried your face in his chest, painfully aware it had been a week since you’d last done anything close to that. 

“Don’t be. There’ll be plenty of time for that in the future. I’m gonna burn this city down, and build anything we want its ashes.” His hand traveled up and down your arm as he spoke.

John’s words about how your prior plans were over, and Cassandra’s words about him being a dark space rang out in your head again. Instead of giving them anymore credence, you just reached up and pressed your lips to his.

“I’m behind you the whole way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Lincoln would try to hide that part of him from the reader. That dark, do whatever side. In the game, something along the lines of Lincoln’s “true/real” self came out when his family died was said. I think he wouldn’t want the reader to see how much he changed since in this story she knew him before the incident. I think she’d see it still, even if it wasn’t all at once, but I also think he’d still try to hide how severe the change was. Am I making sense?  
> I imagine the reader went to his associates because somewhere deep down she was hoping they’d tell her what she suspected.  
> Also, now that I’ve broken the ice on the other characters, I’m gonna do a far more Lincoln/Reader centric chapter next.


	4. Just Like Perla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard it said Perla was sick and Lincoln took care of her when she was, but I don’t know with what. I just left it ambiguous. I also don’t know when she died, but Lincoln was born in 1945 right? I think the orphanage closed in 1958, so Sammy and Perla took Lincoln in when he was 13?

Today had been the day Perla Robinson had been laid to rest, and it seemed like all of the Hollow was feeling it. People you knew for a fact hated each other, had supported one another as condolences were given to Sammy, Ellis, and Lincoln. It was amazing how much the community loved and respected the family. You had only been in New Bordeaux at that point for about six months, but you’d learned pretty quickly that the Robinson family was like royalty in the neighborhood. 

You’d been seeing Lincoln for five of those 6 months, before Perla started showing signs of being ill. Times where Lincoln had to cancel plans you two made became more and more frequent, but you understood.  
When she was sick enough that it could no longer be hidden, the community had rallied around the family. There’d been many a time where you stayed up with Lincoln eating a cake or a pie that a generous neighbor had given them.

You wondered if the Robinson’s were magic, because somehow they’d gotten your father to attend the service and wake with you without even asking. He’d made it abundantly clear he had no love for Sammy, and especially none for Lincoln. You’d been prepared to go through the day with supporting the family in mind, thoughts of asking him or your stepmother to go non-existent. He’d appeared by your side, dressed and ready to go and you hadn’t questioned it. At the wake, your father had given his condolences to the whole family. You’d exchanged a look of surprise with Lincoln, but there hadn’t been any time to talk about it.

You watched as the family had smiled, and gave the support they received back in spades. They were demonstrating that immense strength that made them pillars in the Hollow. Halfway through the wake, Ellis had stormed out of the bar. You guessed he had finally snapped at something, what that was you weren’t sure. Sammy had stopped Lincoln from pursuing him, and smoothly calmed the guest back into place. It was the first chink in their unified armor that you’d seen all day. Your heart hurt for them, and you would miss Perla too.  
In true New Orleans fashion, the wake had gone on for some time. It was a blend of a traditional wake, and a Jazz Funeral. Your father had suggested leaving about two hours in. You hadn’t wanted to, you didn’t want to leave Lincoln’s side, but he’d insisted he was fine. You’d reluctantly left after that. However, hours later you couldn’t help but worry if he was ok. Your texts went unanswered, and you wondered if he’d finally snapped like Ellis. He held deeper emotions to himself, you could only imagine what he did with grief. Finally, your mind’s game of what ifs got out of hand, and you were stealing your father’s keys to go find out.

You could’ve went through the front, or through the family entrance. Perla and Sammy were a lot laxer than the average parents. Lincoln had brought you up to his room many times with no issue from them. Sometimes it was just easier to slip in and out without anyone noticing though. Even with that, you preferred Sammy’s over your home any day. Today however, you didn’t want to deal with the few stragglers you could see still in the bar. Besides, you and Lincoln didn’t get all of that practice climbing into each other’s bedroom windows not to use it. 

You scaled the drainpipe at the back of the house, priding yourself on how much easier it had gotten. You slipped open the shutters, and climbed up onto the sill. The window was open like you’d come to expect, and you climbed inside.

He was sitting on his bed going over a pile of papers and pamphlets. He was so engrossed in them; he didn’t seem to notice you had entered. You weren’t used to Lincoln in formal wear, so you’d gotten quite the treat earlier. Even if it wasn’t at the most opportune time. Now he’d loosened his tie, and abandoned his suit jacket. You were there to see how he was, but you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. You would blame that on him.

As if finally sensing your presence, he looked up. He tensed and his eyes widened in surprise, before he relaxed after realizing it was you.

“Sorry,” you laughed, and closed the window behind you. “I wanted to check on you. I feel like I abandoned you earlier.”

“I was saving you. Funerals are bigger than birthdays round here.”

“Yeah I got that when the Mardi Gras decorations made an appearance.” You sat on the edge of his bed. “How are you doing?”

He chuckled and started straightening up the papers, before putting them on his nightstand. “I’m fine. That was wild of your old man to come. Surprised the hell out of Sammy and that ain’t easy to do.”

“Surprised the hell out of me too,” you briefly thought back over your odd morning. “My mom is sending you a card. She wanted you to know she’s sorry.”

Your mom hadn’t met Lincoln yet, but you’d gushed to her about him enough that she loved him too. She was excited to meet him during her break in the next month.

“How’s she doin’? She’ll be done with school soon right?” he slipped off his watch and placed it on top of the papers.

“She’s fine. I’m just trying to let her think everything is fine on the home front so she doesn’t have to feel like she should qui-“ you stopped once you realized he’d spun the conversation to be about you. “I’m not here for me Lincoln.”

He stared past you to the TV on his dresser. You hadn’t even noticed it was on, because he had it on mute.

“Lincoln?” You called softly, expecting his response.

He finally sighed, and turned his attention back to you. “Only so many ways I can say I’m fine (Y/N). I don’t need to drape myself over the casket, I don’t need to scream, and I don’t need to throw a fit. I just need to make sure everyone else is ok, that’s how I get to be ok.”

You swallowed and looked away from him, nodding. That was Lincoln for you. Concerned with how he can square everyone away, because that’s when he felt most at ease. Worried about how he could get everyone back into place, so he could have that feeling of home again.

“Ok,” you reached out and grasped his hand, running your thumb over it. “How’s Ellis? Did he come back home?”

Lincoln shook his head. “No. I think he’s got a girlfriend now, he’s probably at her place. He’ll be back in the morning.”

“Ellis has a girlfriend? Who is she?”

“I suspect a resident of the land of make believe until he shows me otherwise.” he shrugged.

You laughed, and slapped his shoulder when he started laughing too. “I’m sure she’s nice…then again..”

“It’s Ellis?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah.” You laughed again. 

You sobered, and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. He touched your cheek gently, and returned it. You turned and situated yourself in his arms, back pressed against his chest. Instantly his arms encircled you, and you laid your head back on his shoulder.

“If you say you’re ok, I believe you.”

“Thank you.” He kissed your temple, and reached for the remote.

“So, what are these?” you poked at the papers beside you, and frowned when you felt him tense behind you.

“Just some things I need to look over.”

“Pertaining too…” you trailed off, looking up at him.

He kept his eyes trained on the TV, instead of meeting your gaze. “I’m thinkin’ of enlisting.”

You blinked, your mind trying to put his words together. Enlisting? As in military service? You didn’t think you’d heard him speak of it before. He was constantly worried about what you were going to do after you graduated, and how his future would go with yours. Would Lincoln the soldier’s future mesh with yours too?

“But…I don’t understand.” You finally managed to get out.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it off and on for a while now. I was talkin’ about it with Perla before….and I’m thinkin’ it’ll be good for me.”

Why hadn’t he told you? Would he have even told you if you hadn’t asked? You didn’t like that at all.

You twisted in his arms to face him. “Lincoln why wouldn’t you tel-“

“(Y/N). I'll tell you everything once I figure it out. I promise you’ll be the first to know. Just not tonight.” He squeezed your shoulders in a pleading gesture.

“Fine.” you replied and turned back around and watching him flip through channels.

“I was going to tell you.” He finally added, gently kissing the back of your neck.

“I’m sure.” You scoffed, inwardly smirking when you felt him throw his head back in frustration. “I’m going to get something to drink? Can I get you something?”

“Bourbon.” 

You stood up from the bed, and headed for the door. “I don’t know, will you ship out while I’m gone? Don’t wanna be left holding something I don’t even drink.”

“You’re gonna stop hangin’ round Ellis.” He called after you.

\--  
When you got down to the bar the stragglers were gone. The patrons had been nice enough to clean up after themselves, so Sammy didn’t have to worry about much except what he’d do with all that food. Then again, Lincoln and Ellis together would treat a buffet like a snack.

You rounded the bar in search of the bourbon, only to be surprised by Sammy himself. You hadn’t even noticed the man.

“Third shelf.” He nodded towards the shelf. “He hasn’t touched a drop all day, surprised it took him this long.”

You grabbed a small glass and placed a few ice cubes in it. “Maybe he has and he just didn’t tell you.”

You recognized your tone was bitter, but you were still reeling over the revelation. Your mind wouldn’t even allow you to picture him away from you like that.

Sammy laughed, slapping his hand on the bar. “You’re just like her. That’s why Perla liked you so much.”

“I didn’t know that.” Your eyes widened. 

You didn’t think Perla had disliked you, but it was nice to hear anyways.

“Yeah. She was always on that boy’s ass about holding onto you. I don’t think he needs to be told though.” Sammy tipped back the last of his whiskey

“Maybe he does.” You filled the glass, and then sifted through Sammy’s juice selections for yourself.

“Don’t be mad (Y/N), he was going to tell you.” 

“When he was already in and it was too late for anything other than good-bye?” You settled on cranberry juice.

“No.” Sammy reached out over the bar, and gently patted your shoulder. “No, he wasn’t. I only found out when I saw the papers. He only told Perla, they’d gotten even closer in the last few months.”

“He’s never said anything about it before, it’s so random.” 

“No, he’s always been lookin’ for a place to fit in.”

Your face contorted with confusion. “But you gave him that here. You, and Perla, and Ellis.”

Sammy nodded, swishing his drink around in his glass. “We did, and I think he knows that this is his home. I also think there are some things that only he recognizes, but may not fully understand that he has to iron out.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“There may be something in addition to family that Lincoln needs to feel at home. If he’s thinkin’ it could be the army, I’m thinkin’ we should support him. Just think about it before you get upset with him.”

“Ok.” You replied, rounding the bar and hugging the man. “And Sammy..I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” he nodded again. “Go easy on the boy. Last time you were mad at him he didn’t know his ass from his feet til' you spoke to him again.”

“Really?” you perked up, a teasing grin crossing your features as you collected the drinks.

“Just like Perla.” He muttered shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m guessing he enlisted when he was 19? He’s 19 here. If that’s wrong, I’ll just edit it.  
> I don’t think Perla’s death had anything to do with him enlisting, but I’m using it as the catalyst here. I imagine he grieves very privately.  
> Also, it never occurred to me how young he is in the game. He’s like 23 right? Omg he’s a baby (even though I’m 22 lol). I think I confused myself somewhere trying to juggle all those dates.


	5. Little Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some mini intimate moments. I strongly believe Lincoln is a Capricorn. I don’t know what day he was born, so I’m going by the month and his personality. Funnily enough, Ellis is a Capricorn too, but he’s a Capricorn-Aquarius cusp. Explains a lot.

“You don’t show anybody.”

“I won’t. Stop being a baby.” You adjusted your camera lens. “They’re for my eyes only, I swear.”

Lincoln Clay was a beautiful man. More importantly, to you anyways, he was your man. You wanted to commemorate that. Taking pictures wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but he photographed so well you couldn’t help it.

“Wouldn’t be too mad if you took pictures for me, instead of, of me.”

“Really? You’d like that?” you raised an eyebrow, gaze aimed downward on him.

“Pictures from the prettiest girl in the world for my eyes only? Very much.” His hands encircled yours arms, drawing a small smile from you.

You snorted. “Your eyes? Don’t forget Ellis’s when you showed them to him, or when he found them. Then he’d show Danny, who’d show Giorgi, and then everybody’s eyes would enjoy them.”

He dropped his hands with a nod and chuckle. “So no then?”

“Yep,” the LCD screen showed a focused image of his face. “I’m ready.”

“Fine, one.” He was reclining on his bed with his eyes shut, but his shoulders were tense.

“You’re supposed to be chill after sex, Jesus.” You laughed, and he got that cute, dazed look he got sometimes when you did.

“Let’s do it again, and see if it works this time.” He lazily dragged a hand up your bare thigh, hardly covered by his t-shirt.

You shifted in your straddling position over him, purposely dragging yourself over his lower half. He grunted, grasping your hips. You started to lean in, as if to kiss him, only to raise the camera and capture his expression.

He blinked in surprise, and dumped your body into the empty space next to him. You curled into the soft comforter, laughter ringing out into the space around you. 

\---

Perla had commissioned you with the task of putting together invitations for a charity dinner she was doing. You were so flattered she wanted you to be a part of something so important. Ever since it’d become clear that you and Lincoln were something serious, she and Sammy had been nothing short of wonderful to you. You always felt at home with them.

You were sliding fancy cardstock into small gold envelopes, when the front door opened up to reveal Lincoln.

“Perla got you doin’ grunt work?” He walked over to the space Perla had cleared for you to work on the living room floor. 

“Actually, I’m helping her with her charity dinner. My role is very important.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m sure. Balance of society could fall if those cards aren’t handled just right.” 

A middle finger was all he received in response, drawing forth that deep laugh from his chest.

You looked over the shiny, completed envelopes that were spaced out evenly, and eyed his boots warily. “You had to handle something for Sammy? It sounded kinda complicated.”

The rip on the sleeve his t-shirt, slightly stained red, gave it away. That, and he looked tired yet accomplished. You’d come to recognize that expression early on in your relationship. He seemed ok, so you wouldn’t press for details.

“Not really.” He shrugged, kneeling next to you. “Want some help?”

“Ok, I know you’re not interested in slipping invitations into pretty little envelopes,” you gave him a side glance. “What you mean is, do I wanna see how far we can get in the living room before somebody comes in?”

He gave you a sly smile, and reached out to cup your face. “Hey, you said it. I was innocently offering my help.”

“And here I am taking advantage of Lincoln Clay.” You managed to get out between kisses.

“Shame on you girl.” He grinned, gently pushing you to the carpeted floor.

Your hands traveled up his back, catching the ripples of his muscles under his shirt. It didn’t take long for you two to fall into a familiar routine, it never did. It seemed like a Herculean task to keep your hands off of each other for long.

He unclasped your bra with little effort, and you could feel his hands skirting back around to the front of your chest. 

A solid sounding thump, followed by his pained grunt caused your eyes to shoot open. Lincoln rolled off of you, and you looked up at the source of the interruption sheepishly. Perla stood above you two, purse held like a weapon and head shaking.

“Hey Mrs. Perla, I’m almost done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small update. I have another detailed chapter I’m working on, but I wanted to update again. I also want to do another chapter like this.


End file.
